4 Star Food, 1 Star Heart
by kellykins513
Summary: Bella Swan had every intention of removing herself from the dating scene after some very unfortunate matches. In walks Edward Cullen, award winning chef and restauranteur who doesn't have a kind bone in his body. Has Bella just been meeting all the wrong men? Can she get through Edward's hard persona? ExB, AH. Rated M for language and lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is my first attempt at a fan fic that I actually feel is good enough to post online! I know this first chapter is fairly short, but I just want to get a feel on if this is something you Twi-Hards would enjoy. Give it a read, then rate, review and follow so I'm inspired to keep writing!**

**Disclaimer: All characters in this piece of fiction are the property of their creator, Stephenie Meyer. My use of names and personalities is purely for entertainment purposes, and no copyright infringement is intended. Any distribution of this story without kellykins513's clear consent will be considered a violation of creative rights.  
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Chapter 1

_What the hell have I gotten myself into?_ I looked across the table at "baller26" aka "Mike" aka "Online guy #2 I've gone out with in as many weeks." This is no way to find a guy, but my mother, Renée, has been in one of those Bella's-never-going-to-find-the-one moods lately. She didn't tell me she'd made an online dating profile for me until I showed up for what was supposed to be a mother-daughter dinner, and ended up being a very awkward blind date. I showed up to The Olive Garden in jeans and a light purple knit sweater, with no make-up and my hair left alone, only to be met at the front door by a very good looking man.

At least Renée has good taste when it comes to looks.

Jacob Black was a tall, broad-shouldered, olive skinned man. He had expressive eyes that looked like the color of black coffee, and a smile so white it was almost blinding. Too bad his personality didn't match his looks. No matter how dashing he appeared in well-fitted jeans and a deep green sweater, inside he was an all-out prick.

No, "prick" is putting it too nicely. Jacob Black was a womanizing ass.

I wish I had figured this out _before_ I invited him home for after-dinner coffee. My studio apartment still smells a bit like pepper spray.

_Note to self: don't ever use pepper spray indoors again._

"Bella?" I heard someone whisper my name. A little louder, "Bella?"

I shook my head and returned to my surroundings, pushing the memory of Jacob back into the recesses of my memory. Mike was staring at me like I'd gone crazy.

"Sorry, I spaced out I guess."

"Are you done with your meal? I would love to head out to the movie theater soon. It starts in twenty minutes." Mike crunched up the left side of his face, in what I think was an attempt at a wink. Definitely not the kind of wink any self-respecting woman would ever want to be the recipient of. I tried to hide my shiver.

"Ah, well, Mike. I'm actually pretty tired. It was a tough week at work and all. Would you mind skipping the movie?"

Mike perked up at those words, his eyes leaving the backside of the waitress at the table next to us, returning to my chest. "You're place or mine?"

Fuck. He thought this was an invitation to hook up. I was intending it as more of a _you-creep-me-out _statement. "Well, actually Mike, I was thinking we could just call it a night here."

Still staring at my breasts, "I would make it worth your time." Another awkward wink. "No woman has ever regretted being with me."

"Mike…" I was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. I was having a hard time believing his last claim.

He leaned across small, two-person table and lowered his voice. "I'd love to make your pussy nice and wet, and rock your world with my Big. Hard. Cock."

_Whoa, boy!_, I thought. _This guy is totally going overboard._ I decided to lie, not seeing any other way to get out of this without making a scene. Somehow I knew Mike would start getting more vocal about his "friend" if I didn't agree.

I pretended to consider for a moment, and pushed out my chest a bit. "Hmm, that does sound really tempting." I swirled my finger around the rim of my water glass. Mike gulped, and his eyes went a bit glazed over. "Just give me a minute to run to the ladies room first."

I stood up then smoothed down my skirt, aware of Mike's gaze on my ass the entire time. I tried not to hurry too fast in the direction of the restrooms. Luckily I had had the sense to convince Mike we should have dinner at _Cullen's_, where my best friend from high school now worked as a line cook. A waiter came out the door just as I reached it.

"Hey, is Angela Weber in there?" I asked in a whisper.

The waiter looked at me odd, and said "Yes, she's here until we close." I pushed past the gangly teenager, avoiding the tray he hurriedly held up over my head as I almost knocked it over. "Hey wait!" He called as the door swung shut behind me.

Kitchen staff of all kinds looked up with alarm as I barged into the kitchen. A blonde head turned around, eyes open wide in surprise, taking in my worried expression.

Angela walked over to me, leaving what looked like a pot of gravy behind at her workstation.

"Bella! What the hell are you doing in here? You're not supposed to be in here! Oh this isn't good…" Angela had a habit of asking a lot of questions when she was surprised or worried.

I shushed her and pulled her off to the side. "I'm on a date with a guy I met online, and he's a total creep! He wants to put his 'big hard cock' in my 'wet pussy.'" I used finger quotes for emphasis. Angela's face went red then white in the same second. Crude words make her so uncomfortable.

"Please help me sneak out of here!"

Angela looked around, as if worried someone would see us talking. She took a deep breath then turned her focus back to me. "Okay, fine. Why the heck did you agree to a date with someone online anyways?"

"Angela I don't have time for a lecture right now!"

"Right, sorry. Follow me. Keep your arms at your side so you don't knock into anyone."

I followed her through the middle of the kitchen to the delivery door.

"Turn right at the end of the alley so you don't go in front of the restaurant." She was about to close the door behind her when I had another reason to panic.

"Angela! Angela!" I called back, "I parked out front! What do I do, this creep will see me!"

Angela sighed, and opened the door back up. "Come here," she whispered.

I followed her back into the kitchen, over to where the employees kept their personal items during their shift. She went to a beat up backpack and rummaged through it, extracting a set of keys. She quickly pulled one off the ring, and stood up handing it to me.

"We can trade cars for the night. Give me your keys." I handed over the keys to my precious truck. Thank God this was Angela, she's the only person beside myself I would trust with my baby. She pushed me back toward the door, and opened it, about to push me toward the exit of the service alley. I turned around to say a quick "thanks," but she waved me off with a worried expression. I felt bad for interrupting her work, but I knew she would understand.

I whipped around, and walked right in to something tall and hard. I stumbled, and a pair of hands grabbed my upper arms, steadying me.

"What the hell are you doing out here? That door is for employees only!" an angry voice spit out. I looked up and blinked a few times. Holy shit, what was a model doing yelling at me about employee-only areas.

"Who – who are you?" I breathlessly asked.

The man rolled his eyes – beautiful, emerald-green eyes. He looked at me; or rather he glared at me. "I should be asking the same thing of you. Did you just come out that door?"

I started getting nervous. This gorgeous man wasn't startled by my appearance, but he was quite obviously pissed. "Well, yeah, you see, I was on this terrible date with some guy from , his profile name was baller26 I guess I should have known he'd be a creep, but anyways, he was making everything all awkward and then kept talking about sex and he winked and…" I trailed off as the man shook me a bit.

"What the hell does any of that have to do with you coming out of a service door?" He whisper-yelled at me.

I took a deep breath, and tried to avoid looking into the amazing eyes. "Well, my friend, she works here. And I thought she might help me sneak out without the guy seeing, and she did."

"Who's your friend?" He looked genuinely curious.

"Angela. But why does that matter?" Green-eyes looked away from me, and pushed me out of the way as he roughly pushed open the door.

"Ms. Weber!" he yelled, "Would you mind joining me out side for a moment?" By this point, I was very confused. He looked down at me as we waited for Angela to come to the door.

"Ms. Weber, would you mind explaining why this woman came through this door?"

Angela's eyes widened, and her voice cracked as she explained that she'd helped me escape a bad date.

"Ms. Weber, need I explain to you again the rules against non-employees in the kitchen area?" The man was livid.

"Yes, sir," Angela meekly answered.

"Normally a violation like that would be terms for termination…"

"Oh, please sir! It won't happen again!" Angela looked at him with pleading eyes. He sighed.

"As I was saying, _normally_ it would be terms for an immediate end to your employment, but as it seems you didn't disturb anything, I will let it go _this time_."

Angela looked up at him with tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks.

I finally had had enough, and decided to pipe up on behalf of my friend. "Who the hell are you to be threatening her with her job?" I yelled.

Green-eyes looked at me, then back at Angela and sighed loudly. "Ms. Weber, would you mind introducing me to your guest?"

Angela looked at me with worried eyes. "Bella Swan, this is Edward Cullen. My boss."

Oh shit. I was looking at Edward Cullen, notorious dickwad and James Beard Award-winning chef and owner of _Cullen's. _The word vomit was inevitable: "But you're not old! You can't be more than thirty! And you're hot!" came out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

Angela's eyes widened even more, if that's even possible, and Mr. Edward Cullen smirked. "It's good to meet you, Ms. Swan. And to think, you don't look anything like a large water-loving bird." His eyes went dark, and he brusquely turned around, and pushed past Angela. "Get back to work, Ms. Weber," I heard him say as the door was closing.

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**Thanks for checking this out! Should I keep writing?**

**Happy Friday!  
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**P.S. I decided that Bella should have her usual red truck, so I've made that change to this chapter. As I'm arranging my storyline, some changes may occasionally occur. When they do, I will be sure to notify my awesome readers so you don't get confused by random changes!  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Two chapters in one day! Don't get used to this... but my mind is running at full speed as I start this story! **

**I decided Bella should be driving her usual truck, and I made that change in the previous chapter (for any of you who read it pre-change).  
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**Disclamier: These characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, I'm just having some fun with them!  
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**Enjoy!  
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Chapter 2

I woke up at an ungodly hour, with sweat pooling at my hairline and a tingling sensation in my abdomen. God, that was a good dream…

_I looked down at my feet, hanging off the edge of a large, four-poster bed. I was lying back completely naked, the glow of sex to come overwhelming my body. A head of bronze hair, messy like a wet dream, was coming closer to me as soft lips left searing kisses in a trail from my toes to my knees. Strong, yet gentle hands roamed up to my hips and pulled me forward until my knees were bent over the edge of the bed. The lips connected with my skin again, gently ghosting up to my belly button. They left a quick kiss right above it. The hands, with agonizing slowness, roamed from my hips to the underside of my breasts. Long fingers massaged, while thumbs moved to just touch my already hard nipples, causing them to pebble even more. The auburn hair came up closer, and the wondrous mouth kissed around the mound of my left breast. As the lips came closer to my nipple, the tongue came out and flicked over my pebbled tip, to be followed by light nibbling by a very skilled tongue. One hand came down from my breasts, and snaked its way down to my core. Two fingers slipped between my lips, rubbing around the wetness that had accumulated. One finger briefly brushed over my throbbing clitoris before just starting to enter into my warm, wet hole. The mouth abandoned its assault on my breast, and the head of hair turned up to face me, with green eyes like emeralds staring into mine…_

I lay back in bed, basking in the post-dream-coital glow. I could feel that the boy shorts I had worn to bed were soaked through, and my nipples were still hard underneath the old college t-shirt I wore. Go Huskies. I rolled over to my side as my body calmed down, when my brain decided to serve its purpose, and think. What the hell was I doing having a wet dream with Edward Cullen as the leading man? How could I be attracted to such a jerk, even in dreamland? I gradually became disgusted with myself. Last night around 11:00, when Angela was done with her shift at _Cullen's_, she came to trade back our cars. When she came up to my apartment, I could tell that she'd been crying. Her eyes were bloodshot and still watery, and she sounded congested when she spoke. Apparently her ass of a boss had laid the scolding on thick when he talked to her after I left the restaurant. She was currently on probation, and any small mistake could immediately end in the termination of her employment. But even with that punishment, Angela wasn't mad at me. I had no idea why – had I been in her shoes, I would have been pissed beyond belief. I was very lucky to have her has a friend.

"Why are you being so cool about this, Ange? I really could have screwed things up for you!" I was almost mad in a way, because she was taking this so well. I couldn't stand to be the person who lost a good friend her job.

Angela rolled her eyes, and spoke in her usual soft voice. "Bella, nothing terrible came out of it. Sure, Cullen was mad at me. But I still have my job, and you didn't have to spend anymore time with a total creep." She looked at me with a bit sterner of an expression. "By the way, Isabella Marie, why the hell were you on a date with some nobody you met online!"

For Angela to curse meant she was mad, or worried. Goes to show the kind of person she is to be more worried about my method of finding male companionship than the fact that she might have lost her job.

"Who are you, my mother?" I rolled my eyes at her, and laughed.

Ange smiled too, and lightly laughed a bit. "Oh, heavens no. I could never be Renée. I'm not _fabulous_ enough." We both burst out laughing; thinking about my mother's flair for… well, flair.

"Actually," I started, "Renée set me up on the date in the first place! She made a profile for me on one of those online dating sites without telling me. She's become very worried lately of my ovaries and their lack of fertilization. She's been dead set on being a grandma for the last month or so, it's horrible!"

Angela laughed even harder, becoming breathless. We both knew how intensely my mom would focus on something until it happened. I guess I could sort of be thankful that she was focusing on this now – I had no intention of starting a family anytime soon (regardless of my bad luck with men recently), so she wouldn't be able to have any crazy ideas until I had a bun in the oven. Small miracles.

My good friend left soon after, and I headed to bed my mind on my mom, wondering how she was doing in Florida with her current beau. Phil was his name. He was a minor-league baseball player, and actually seemed like he might stick around for a while. I was happy, my mom needed some semblance of normality in her life after many years of moving around and going through men like I go through wine in the spring. I drink a lot of wine in the spring.

Maybe it was thinking of wine that had led my mind moving to more romantic thoughts as I slept. I curled up into a ball, and shut my eyes, hoping to get a few more hours of sleep before getting up for the day.

When I woke up again, the bright morning sun was shining through my bedroom window. I groaned and rolled over, shielding my eyes from the light. I chanced a peek at my alarm clock, and saw that it was nearly 10:00. I jumped up, and felt dizzy for a minute, trying to remember where I had to be this morning…

Right! Brunch date with Dad, 10:30 at Denny's, popped into my mind. It's Saturday, we get brunch together every Saturday. I groaned again, and held my head as my body got used to being upright. I had slept like a log after waking up from my earlier dream.

I showered in record time, and brushed my teeth as I ran a comb through my hair, wincing every time the teeth snagged a knot. I twisted my hair up into a messy bun, so it wouldn't soak down to my mid-back. I pulled on a pair of dark jeans and slipped into a conservative top. I avoided wearing anything remotely low-cut or sheer around Dad, it made him squirm. For the chief of police, he sure squirmed easy around women, related or not. I think my mother leaving when I was in middle school contributed to that.

10:10 – I was running late. It took a good 25 minutes to get to Denny's, at our halfway meeting point between Forks, where Dad lived, and Port Angeles, where I was currently staying. I couldn't really say I lived there, because I had no plans to make it a permanent home. I moved there based solely on my job as a law secretary at Weber and Sons, Inc., that Angela's father had been so kind to offer me after I finished my degree at the University of Washington. It certainly wasn't what I'd had in mind when I spent four years toward a bachelor in business administration, but it paid the bills.

I arrived at Denny's right at 10:40. My old red pick-up doesn't accelerate like it used to, and going any speed over 50 is hit and miss. Today it was a miss. I pulled in next to a Forks, Washington police cruiser, and hopped out of the cab, stumbling as my feet hit the ground. I caught myself, and slammed the door shut behind me. I didn't bother locking the truck. I wasn't worry about a hunk of metal being stolen, and if it were it would give me an excuse to get a new vehicle – preferably one with A/C. As much as I complained about my truck, I did love it and couldn't bring myself to part with it. I was waiting until it gave out completely. Or disintegrated.

I shook my head as I pulled open the front door of the restaurant, cool air coming out to mix with the summer heat. It was one of those rare days in the Pacific Northwest when the sun actually made you feel really hot.

My dad waved at me, and I pointed to him so the hostess knew that I wouldn't need to be shown to a table. She followed me with a set of cutlery and menu in hand, and set it on the table as I sat down to join my dad.

"You're server will be with you soon," she said, smacking her gum. Bleached hair and fuchsia lipstick, she was a bimbo for sure. I saw my dad glance at her name tag.

"Thank you, Lauren," he politely said. She ignored the sentiment, and headed back to the podium, cell phone in hand and fingers flying over the keys. "I sure hope you're rude like that when you're at work, Isabella."

"No, Charlie, I don't even have my phone on while I'm working. Everyone important knows the office number if an emergency ever came up." I raised an eyebrow, daring him to call me Isabella again. I hated my full name, and called him Charlie whenever he used it. I figured if I called him Charlie often enough, which bothered him because a daughter should not call his father by his first name, he would eventually remember to call me Bella.

"So what do you want today," he looked at me a slightly eager look in his eye. He knew I always ordered the same thing so asking was pretty pointless.

"The usual, of course." I smiled at him. My usual was two pancakes, two eggs, and two strips of bacon. I hate bacon, so it always went to dad, who miraculously hasn't keeled over from all the grease he eats. I eat one bite of bacon, and my stomach is aching for a day.

Dad was still perusing the menu when our server came up. Sue waited on us most Saturdays, and I think my dad was a bit taken with her. She certainly was beautiful and graceful, and had the smile of a woman who had lived life and knew what she wanted from it now. From our small talk most Saturdays, we knew she was a widow, and that she had a son, Seth, serving in the military. She worked at Denny's on the weekends to give herself something to do rather than worrying about her boy.

"Morning, Charlie, Bella. How are you two?" Sue smiled at us, and I immediately smiled back. When they say smiles are contagious, they must have been thinking of Sue.

Dad cleared his throat, and looked at Sue. "We're doing great. How are you? And Seth?"

"I've been well, thank you. I spoke to Seth last week on the computer. He's doing great and really enjoying his time down on the base in San Diego. He leaves next week for a training mission out in the Pacific." She smiled with pride at her son's devotion to the country.

"That's great to hear," Charlie quietly said. He spoke up a bit; "You let your boy know that if he ever decides to leave the military, I'm always looking for a good officer to help me out in Forks. With so many people moving to this region lately, and the constant crowds thanks to those books that Meyer woman wrote, we never get a break anymore."

I looked at my dad, with wide eyes. I was pretty sure that was the longest he'd ever spoken to Sue. He noticed my gaze, and blushed a bit.

"I'll be sure to do that, Charlie," Sue nodded. "Now, what can I get for you two?"

We placed our orders, and Sue headed off to turn them in.

"So, Bells. How was your week?" Dad sipped his coffee as he looked at me, waiting for my response.

"It was fine. Kind of slow at work, they have me organizing files since the phone lines have been pretty quiet. I think a lot of people are out on summer vacations this week."

"That makes sense. July 4th is tomorrow."

I gasped, "Oh, you're right, it is! Wow, this summer has gone by fast. No wonder it's been so quiet – everyone has gone to Seattle to celebrate probably. I heard they're not even doing a fireworks show this year."

"That's a shame. It's sad no one appreciates our freedom anymore…" Dad drifted off. He looked back at me after a minute. "You could come home for the day tomorrow. Maybe even head out tonight and spend the night in Forks. The hospital just got a new head-surgeon, and he and is wife are planning a party. They hired an outside company to do a fireworks show. I haven't met him yet, but I've heard he's a good doctor. Everyone at the hospital only speaks good words about him." Dad looked at me with hopeful eyes – I hadn't been home since Christmas. I generally tried to avoid it, because things could get kind of awkward, and apart from Angela I hadn't had many friends in high school.

"I'll think about it Dad. I'm not sure if I can just get up and leave last-minute."

"That's nonsense, Isabel- Bella. Take a break this weekend and come home. Spend some time with your old man." He looked at me with pleading eyes.

"Ok, I'll come. When should I get there?"

He thought for a minute. "My shift is over at 9:00. You can come earlier, of course. You know where I hide the spare key. But that's when I'll be back."

"Alright, I'll head down around 7:00 so I can get settled in before you get back from work." I smiled, actually getting a bit excited to go home for a day. It would be nice to get out of my normal weekend routine, even if just for a day. Plus I was curious to meet this new head of surgery – the Forks Hospital had really expanded over the past few years, a new children's wing currently being constructed so there would be one closer than Seattle.

Sue arrived with our meals, and we both dug in. Dad eyed my bacon, and I quickly set the strips on his plate, to join the two sausage links he'd ordered. He mumbled a thanks, then we both ate in silence.

The check arrived when our plates were clear, and Dad laid out cash before I had a chance to tell him I'd pay this week. He never let me pay, but I was determined to make up for it some day. Maybe I'd bring some peanut butter cookies with me tonight, those were his favorite.

As we headed out the door, he surprised me with a fierce hug. "I'm really glad you agreed to stay with me for the holiday. I'll see you tonight."

With that, he headed toward the police cruiser, clearly feeling a bit uncomfortable with his sudden outburst of uncharacteristic affection. I shook my head at him yet again, and walked to my truck.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Here's Chapter 3! Enjoy!**

**Twilight and it's characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer.  
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Chapter 3

"Come on, baby. Please start!" My truck sat there, sputtering each time I tried to start it. "I promise I won't ever complain about you again! Come on, you can do it!" _Sputter sputter sputter._ "Ugh! Come on, I'll wash you soon if you start…" _Sputter sputter… _Thank God! My hunk of junk, I mean, beautiful antique pick up truck, finally started. I gave the steering wheel a quick love pat, and put it into gear.

I still had no intention of getting rid of this truck. As annoying as it's temperamental engine could be, I really did love it. Maybe Dad would help me wash it tomorrow; he'd probably be washing his cruiser too like every Sunday.

This was the longest the truck had ever taken to start. I really hoped it wasn't getting worse, because as much as my love prevented me from replacing it so did my bank account. I really couldn't afford to get any work done on it, let alone buy something newer and more reliable.

_I need a better job_ I thought to myself. Working for Angela's dad's law firm was great. They paid relatively well and gave me great benefits. But I didn't love it, and Mr. Weber had mentioned they might need to cut my hours. They'd recently hired two new paralegals to assist with more cases, so they took over some of my duties as they organized documents as they went through case information. When I organized the large library of law books that was all I did. The two new employees killed two birds with one stone because they could be working and organizing at the same time.

Maybe it was time to start looking for something else. I could get a loan and finally start up my own business, that was what I'd intended when I first got my degree. But if I were worried now about money, I knew the stress of a new business with unreliable income would be worse.

My mind wandered to Angela. I realized she was in the same predicament as me, working a job that wasn't up to her skill based on her education. She had trained at Le Cordon Bleu, one of the top cooking schools in the world. But when she came back home after she finished there, the only job she'd been able to find was as a line cook at _Cullen's_.

_Edward Cullen…_ I thought. I smiled to myself, but was brought out of my very short-lived fantasy with the sound of a horn blasting behind me. Oops, I had missed the light I was stopped at turning green.

I pushed down on the accelerator, my truck groaning a bit, and continued onto the highway entrance. I shook my head to knock out any thoughts of Mr. Cullen.

A half hour later I was parked in Dad's driveway, looking out at the forest that loomed right across the street. I had hated living in this house – the tall trees and dark shadows that hung around them always gave me a sense of claustrophobia.

The truck door slamming seemed so loud compared to the quiet that surrounded the house. Walking up to the front door, I noticed a small head peek through the curtain of the house next door. Dad hadn't told me anyone had moved into that house… it had been abandoned for years. I smiled and waved, but the little boy just stared, black hair almost covering his eyes.

I shrugged, retrieved the spare key from under the rough stepping stone that said "Swan" on it, and unlocked the door to the house that had been my home for four years of high school.

It should have been no surprise to me that the door opened without a squeak. In a climate as wet as that around Forks, things tended to squeak. Dad probably greased the hinges religiously.

The inside of the house hadn't changed in twenty-five years. Mom and Dad had bought it together right before they had me, and had lived there with me until I was four. That was when Renée decided that she couldn't be bogged down in family life any longer. She left one night, and we didn't hear from her for three months until the divorce papers showed up.

I lived with Dad until I was eight, but at that point Mom decided she wanted to spend time with me again. After a few months of fighting custody battles in court, Charlie and Renée agreed that I would live primarily with her and visit during my breaks from school.

I grew to love living with my mom. She was very immature for her age and her role as a parent, but life was always interesting. We moved a lot, which I actually didn't mind. I didn't inherit her socialite genes – I had my father's loner genes. Not making life-long friends didn't bother me in the least, but even at my young age as a junior high school student, I appreciated and loved learning about all the different areas we lived in. Between when I was eight and fourteen, Renée and I lived in five very different areas. Each time we left when the current relationship Renée was in ended. The longest time we lived anywhere was Phoenix, Arizona.

When our time with Boyfriend #5 ended, mom met Phil. She's been with him ever since. At first I was all for traveling with them as Phil's minor-league baseball team played across the country, but Renée was worried I wouldn't get a proper education. One of the only things she ever admits to regretting in life was not trying harder in high school.

Mom decided that it was time for me to go back to Forks to live with Dad. I resisted a lot at first – in all my travels with her, I had grown to dislike Forks as much as my mom. We both agreed it was too slow and small, and didn't have enough sun. But then Charlie called me, and told me how much it would mean for him if I were to live with him for a while.

He sounded so lonely on the phone, and after days of agonizing over the decision, I made my mind up and started packing my bags for forks.

When I moved in a week before my freshman year of high school, the only thing Dad had changed about my childhood bedroom was an addition of a desk and a fresh coat of white paint on the walls.

I never really personalized my room, because that house never felt like home.

Don't get me wrong, I loved living with Dad. There were few rules because he knew I was a pretty mellow teenager. He didn't have to worry about any boyfriends, or sneaking out to go to parties or the like. I cooked dinner every night after learning that if I didn't my diet would consist of only frozen meals, and Dad was happy as long as I worked hard at school and spent some time with him every now and then. Most of that time was spent fishing or working in the yard.

I took my duffle bag up stairs and opened the door to my old bedroom. Again, nothing had changed at all. The bed wasn't made, but I didn't mind. Charlie had probably been running late to get to his shift – a common occurrence if there's any kind of sports game on TV. He had left a clean set of sheets out, though. I smiled at his gesture, because it was unnecessary. The small linen closest was only a couple of steps from my room.

After setting my bag on the old rocking chair that had had a home in the corner of my room for as long as I could remember, I quickly made up the bed. Just as I was finishing up, I heard a commotion downstairs.

Peeking over at the antique bedside clock, I noticed it was just after 7:00. Who could be downstairs? Dad wouldn't be home for another two hours, according to what he'd said this morning at Denny's.

My worry wasn't intense, though. In a small town like forks, everybody knew everybody. It could have been one of Charlie's friends needing to borrow something. I highly doubted I was the only person who knew where the spare key was hidden on the porch.

"Hello?" I called out, as I walked down the stairs.

The sound that had been coming from the kitchen suddenly stopped. A tall man came around the corner, and my heart suddenly stopped.

"What the fuck are you doing here! Get out! Get out, get out, get OUT!" Jacob Black, the womanizing ass I had been unfortunate enough to meet a couple of weeks ago, looked at me in shock.

"I, er…" he paused, and looked sheepish. "Charlie, I mean, Chief Swan, told me I could borrow some stuff."

"Why would you come all the way to Forks to borrow some 'stuff?'" I glared at the man.

"I live next door with my dad. I wouldn't exactly consider that very far away." He rolled his eyes at me.

"Well that's funny, because I seem to remember you saying you lived a few miles out of Port Angeles." Now not only was Jacob Black a womanizing piece of shit, he was also a _lying_ piece of shit.

He shrugged a large pair of shoulders, and admitted that he may have stretched the truth. Sure, he lived outside of Port Angeles, just further out than he had originally said.

His father, Billy, had become sick a few years ago. After he became wheelchair bound just after Christmas, Jacob had decided to come live with him to help out. When we had met online, he had known I was the Chief of Police's daughter. According to him, he didn't want to "creep me out" by knowing something like that.

"A little late for creeping me out. Do you not recall me getting you with pepper spray? If you're trying not to creep a girl out, you should refrain from trying to force yourself on her!"

He had the decency to look embarrassed. "Ah, look Bella. I'm really sorry about that. You're just so pretty, and it had been so long for me. I really couldn't help myself." He started leaning in a little closer to me, and I pressed my back against the wall.

"You're creeping me out again," I mumbled under my breath. If he tried to get any closer, I would be able to run across to the TV cabinet, and get out the rifle Dad kept hidden underneath.

My plan wasn't needed, however. Jacob stepped back, and looked confused. Then he spun on his heel, and hurried out of the house empty handed. I guess whatever he'd needed to borrow wasn't all that important.

Still a bit freaked out by my surprise visitor, I decided to stay downstairs until Dad got home so I wouldn't be surprised by anyone else coming in. I flipped on the TV, and half paid attention to some old reruns of Friends.

My mind wandered to Jacob Black. The man made no sense. Why did he act like he did, trying to push himself on to me? He was a puzzling man.

I had dozed off when Charlie got home a few minutes after 9:00. He shook my shoulder, and I looked up into the face of a very happy man.

"Oh, Bells! I'm so glad you made it. When did you get here?" he glanced at the clock.

I shrugged. "Oh, a bit before 7:00."

"You could have called me at work."

"I knew you wouldn't be home until now, I didn't mind hanging out here. Besides, could you really have left work early?"

"Guess not." He walked off then, and headed into the kitchen. "You hungry?" he called out.

"Not really, but I'll have a bite if you're eating."

Charlie rustled around in the cabinets for a couple of minutes, and I heard him set down some pans on the stove. I noticed the rustle of a bread bag, and the sound of the fridge opening and closing. He must be making grilled cheese and tomato soup – it was one of the only things he ever made that didn't involve the microwave, and it was one of my favorite meals.

A few minutes later I could smell the aroma of Campbell's soup wafting out of the kitchen.

I switched off the TV, and got up to see if I could help. Dad waved me off, saying he wanted to do this for me. He protested as I began to set the table, but I kept at it laying out the soupspoons and napkins, setting plates and bowls next to the stove.

We ate in silence, enjoying the simple meal. There's something about gooey grilled cheese and warm tomato soup; quick and easy, and great for a 9:30 dinner.

Charlie cleared his throat, and looked at me. "How long can you stay tomorrow? The Fourth of July party will go until around 10:00."

"I'll stay until it's over. I have to go to work on Monday morning, so I can't stay much later." I knew he wished would stay for a few days. I knew he spent most of his time alone, and it had never seemed to bother him in the past. But the house seemed quieter than normal, and Dad seemed like this alone was turning into just plain lonely.

"Okay, that's fine. There's a young man I'd really like you to meet, too. He recently moved in next door." Dad's face turned a little red, thoughts of him being a matchmaker probably embarrassed him.

I was only have listening at that point, in my in thoughts about Dad being lonely. "You know, Dad, maybe I'll try to come visit for a few days soon. Maybe around Labor Day when I have three days off work? I feel bad for not– " It just dawned on me who Charlie was talking about. The new "young man." Jacob Black.

He waved his hand in front of my face. "Bella? Earth to Bella?"

I stared at him, and blinked. "Um, Dad. This man next door… would it be Jacob Black?"

Charlie was surprised, but seemed happy. "Yes! Oh, have you met him? When?" he mused for a second, "Oh, that's right. I told him to stop by anytime he needed to borrow something. Showed him the key under the stepping stone."

"Well, yeah. I met him again today when he scared me half to death rummaging in the kitchen."

"You met him before today? He didn't move here until after you visited for Christmas."

"I kind of met him through Renée, I guess you could say."

Dad gave me a look. "Isabella, you know I don't like it when you call your mom 'Renée.' And what do you mean she introduced you?"

"_Mom_ seems convinced that she's ready to become a grandmother. She's been running a profile for me on an online dating website for a month now. Jacob Black was the first man she set me up with. The date did _not_ go well."

"Well what happened Bells? Jake is a very nice young man."

"Tell that to my pepper spray." I smirked.

Charlie was outraged. "Isabella Marie Swan! What were you doing using pepper spray around that boy! I encourage you to use it for emergencies, not to attack kind men!"

I rolled my eyes. "Um, Dad. It was an emergency. Jacob was trying to force himself on me! He's a disgusting excuse for a man!"

I had never seen such a look of shock on my father's face. "Jake- Jacob Black tried to force you?"

"Well, yeah. He was a perfect gentleman at dinner, so I invited him back to my apartment for some late-night coffee. Everything was fine at first, but then he tried to kiss me, and I pushed him away uncomfortable. He kept advancing on me and wouldn't let up when I told him to stop. Eventually I pulled the pepper spray out of my purse, which I had left sitting on the counter."

"Oh, dear. This isn't good." Charlie seemed worried. "Bella, I'm not trying to defend what Jake did. There's no excuse for forcing oneself on a woman. But I have a thought of why he may have acted the way he did that night."

"And here, when he came over earlier." I noted.

"Here too?" Charlie rubbed his chin, suddenly looking very tired. "I really shouldn't be telling you this. Not my story to tell. But I really do think Jake is a very nice man."

"Go on." I said, skeptical. This was not normal "Charlie" behavior. Had any other man in the world tried to force himself on me, Dad would be after him with a gun in a flash. But he was actually defending Jacob Black!

"Jake moved here in January when his father, Billy, became really sick. They moved into the house next door in March when the stairs at Billy's old place became too much trouble. The place needed a lot of fixing up, and Jake was working on it for weeks – new paint, roof repairs, new doors. Then at the end of the month a woman showed up with a young boy in two."

I interrupted. "Was he the little boy I saw peeking out the window when I got here?"

Dad smiled. "That would be him. Embry is Jake's son. The woman who dropped him off was Jake's sister-in-law."

"Sister-in-law? Then isn't he married?"

His face went dark. "His wife passed away last summer. Drunk driver."

I was in shock. I still couldn't bring myself to like Jacob at this point, but no matter what, no person deserves to lose someone like that.

"Jake was really messed up," Charlie continued, "His wife's sister took in Embry for a while, while Jake got his head back together. He's seemed so lonely when he first got here, then he decided he was stable enough to care for his boy again and asked to have Embry move in with him and Billy."

"I still don't understand how this excuses how he treated me," I stated.

"It doesn't excuse it, but it could perhaps be a reason. Jake probably hasn't been close with a woman since his wife died. He might have been too pushy because his mind knows he is lonely."

I guess that made sense. If Jacob was really hurting over such a terrible loss, he might have acted strangely around other women.

"But, Bella, that really was Jake's story to tell. I just want you to know that he is not a bad person. He's a wonderful father."

"I trust you're judgment Dad. I know that if you thought Jacob was a bad person you'd be cleaning your hunting rifle right now." He laughed at my claim. In high school, my date to the Senior Prom had walked into that situation. Poor Eric was nervous for the rest of the night.

"Well, Bells. I'm going to head up to bed. The party starts at 4:00 tomorrow, but I offered to help set up." He yawned.

"Maybe I'll help out too. Spend some time with you."

"I'd love that, sweetheart. I'm leaving at 1:00, it takes about twenty minutes to get out there – the doctor and his wife live in a very secluded area."

"Alright, sounds good. I'll be ready to go by then." I knew Dad would probably be heading out on an early morning fishing trip first.

"Good night," he muttered as he trudged up the stairs.

"Night, Dad."

* * *

**The July 4th party is tomorrow! I wonder who Bella will meet... ?**

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